


Pierce the Veil

by MelissaMajoria



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Garreg Mach Monastery (Fire Emblem), Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Ghosts, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Non-Canonical Character Death, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sorta beta but Glenn is still dead :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaMajoria/pseuds/MelissaMajoria
Summary: Chasing rumors of ghosts, a guilt-ridden but skeptical Byleth returns to Garreg Mach monastery many years after the events of Crimson Flower.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Pierce the Veil

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware of the following:  
> -Byleth is written as gender neutral, so feel free to imagine them as you see fit.  
> -More deaths than is necessarily canonical because, well, war is hell.  
> -Criticism of the Crimson Flower route.  
> -Dimitri being devoted to his professor - whether this is romantic or platonic is up to you.

Byleth found it interesting that even with the war ending over ten years ago, Garreg Mach had remained abandoned after the Black Eagle Strike Force had left. There had been rumors, of course. Byleth had heard them all - bandits, thieves, even merchants, trying to make the former monastery their home, only to leave shortly thereafter. There had even been a group wanting to turn the monastery into a school again. They had left almost immediately.

It was haunted, they all said.

Byleth rolled their eyes every time they heard that, until they ran into a member of Jeralt’s old mercenary group. “It _is_ haunted,” the mercenary had told Byleth over a drink. “I saw them with my own eyes. Old students, judging by the uniforms.”

Byleth had seen some interesting things - weapons that moved as if alive, a woman who could transform into a dragon, an entire underground technological city, a person that lived even without a heartbeat… but they had never seen a ghost.

Byleth thought a lot about what came after this life, how could they not? So much blood spilled by their own hand, so many lost… Byleth frequently wondered what happened to them all. Where were they now? Were they happy? Were they angry? Had they simply ceased to exist? That seemed like the least unlikely option. How could people who had once been so vibrant and _alive_ just… cease to be?

Byleth had avoided the monastery for their own reasons. The only way they could live with them self after the war was to keep moving forward. Thinking about the past, about the war or their time as a professor, or even their time as a mercenary only brought about a deep sadness and guilt. The only way they could even sleep was to work them self to exhaustion day after day and even then, they still frequently woke up from terrifying nightmares. The only thing they could remember of these nightmares was blood and the faces of their former students.

A deep sense of foreboding and curiosity led Byleth back to Garreg Mach after the conversation with the mercenary. Even simply approaching the monastery brought back a torrent of memories and emotions. Byleth couldn’t help but think of the time before the Officer’s Academy, when emotions were just a dull echo in the back of their mind and not the tempest they were now.

Byleth took a deep breath and crossed the threshold, through the rusting gates and into the former marketplace, only empty stalls left now. Byleth had spent so much time here, procuring gifts for their students, remembering everyone’s favorite flavor of tea and always keeping some on hand, or purchasing bait for the fishing pond.

The fishing pond… Byleth wondered if there were any fish left. It had been so long since they had last gone fishing. Sitting alone with only their thoughts was not always the best idea.

Byleth trudged up the steps to the Entrance Hall, hearing the Gatekeeper’s voice in their head.

_Greetings, Professor! Nothing to report._

Would there be anything to report now? Sightings of ghosts perhaps? Byleth couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, the sound echoing around the Entrance Hall as they entered. The fountains that had once flowed here had ceased, leaving behind water stained receptacles and cobwebs.

Byleth continued up the stairs, watching their step over the ripped carpet and curious stains dotted here and there. One especially large stain lay just outside the Dining Hall.

Byleth could hear the commotion of students and/or soldiers eating and talking, silverware clinking and Raphael’s boisterous laughter. They thought of the many meals they had shared with their students and... friends. Yes, friends. Even those Byleth later fought, they had once considered them friends.

Friends weren't something Byleth had a lot of before arriving at Garreg Mach. They had allies, of course. They were friendly enough with the people in their father’s mercenary group. And of course, there was their father. Perhaps he would be the only person Byleth would have considered a friend before their time at the monastery.

Byleth looked away as the pain from Jeralt's death ripped through them again, feeling almost fresh. They had plans to share a meal in this very dining hall that evening.

Leonie’s angry words on the Bridge of Myrddin rang through their ears.

_Professor! You know Captain Jeralt’s killer was connected to the Empire! Why did you side with them?! Answer me, traitor!_

Byleth frequently wondered what Jeralt would have thought when they had defended Edelgard in the Holy Tomb. On the one hand, Leonie was right. Edelgard _was_ working with the very people who had killed him. On the other hand, Jeralt had made his distrust of Rhea very clear early on. How would he feel, knowing that Rhea had died by Byleth's own hand? Then again, if he had known everything she had done to Byleth's own mother...

The chain that held the ring under Byleth's shirt felt heavy.

_Give this to someone you love as much as I loved her._

Had Byleth loved anyone that way? They hadn't thought so. There was potential in some of the students… mostly the ones they had killed. They had considered giving it to Edelgard, but thought better of it. Edelgard had always had her own agenda, her own priorities that often didn't feel like they had room for Byleth. Even during the war Byleth mostly felt like they were just following commands, which they supposed was understandable. Edelgard _was_ the Emperor. She was the leader. But Byleth had never been a follower and there were many times she wished she had a say in the plans Edelgard and Hubert concocted. Perhaps it was just _because_ Edelgard was Emperor, perhaps it was because Byleth had been gone for _five long years_ , had missed so much.

But even the rest of the Black Eagle Strike Force had often been uncertain. They had turned to Byleth, telling them _Byleth_ was the reason they were there, _not_ Edelgard. There wasn't blind loyalty to their Emperor and it surprised Byleth sometimes. Especially when Edelgard lied to them. After so much of Edelgard's argument against the church was Rhea's lies and deceit (which Byleth did not doubt, had even witnessed them self), Edelgard used many of those same tactics, especially when it came to Those Who Slither in the Dark. Byleth never understood why Edelgard found working with them so necessary. Why did she have so much doubt in the Empire’s forces?

Byleth turned away from the dining hall, opting to continue into the gardens instead. Here they had enjoyed so many teatimes with their students and friends, bonding with them. The tables and chairs were now in disarray, fallen over and being slowly taken over by the plants.

The plants in the formerly neat landscaping were now either dying, dead, or overgrown. Byleth's hand lingered on their favorite table where they had invited so many to tea. The nearby roses were doing well, despite a desperate need to be pruned. They reminded Byleth of Dorothea.

_Only thorns left on this rose._

The war had hit the former songstress harder than most and Byleth wondered how she was. Byleth hadn't kept up with the former Black Eagle Strike Force the way they should have. It was too easy to think of those that had not made it.

Bernadetta, trying to get the upper hand on Felix at Arianrhod, but getting too close to his blade. The worst part of that was the blooming relationship between the two Byleth had seen hints of at the monastery. Perhaps they would find each other in the next life? Byleth had enjoyed spending time with the shy girl in the greenhouse. She wondered what Bernadetta's life would have been like now if she'd survived the war. Would she be hiding in Varley castle? Or would she have been able to overcome her fears and go on the journey to see plants she had mentioned once?

Then there had been Caspar flying on ahead in Derdriu, his wyvern overcome by a barrage of arrows. He hadn't survived the fall, despite Lindhardt's desperate attempts. Linhardt hadn't been the same after that. He had feigned nonchalance at their friendship, but it was clear how much of a lie that was after Caspar's death.

Linhardt and Byleth had traveled together briefly after the war. They had used Hubert's information to discover the secret underground base for Those Who Slither in the Dark and after clearing it out, Linhardt had desperately searched for the information he needed to save Lysithea's life.

Lysithea had joined the Black Eagle class after surmising and then confirming that she and Edelgard had been through a similar experience with Those Who Slither in the Dark. She hadn't been pleased to learn that Edelgard was working with her tormentors, but believed in her cause regardless. 

Unfortunately Byleth and Linhardt had been too late to save poor Lysithea. Upon returning to the surface, they learned that Lysithea had passed while they were gone. Byleth hadn't seen Lindhardt look so devastated since Caspar's death. Linhardt left in the middle of the night and Byleth hadn't heard from him since.

Petra had returned to Brigid after long negotiations with Edelgard. She didn't seem completely pleased with the outcome, but Byleth could tell she was happy to leave Fodlan and its problems behind. Byleth had considered accompanying her, Petra had even invited them. But Byleth hadn't been finished with Fodlan just yet, and it seemed that every time they found and defeated members of Those Who Slither in the Dark, even more appeared. It had been over a year now and Byleth was hopeful, but realistic. They had been hiding in the shadows for centuries after all.

Hubert, Ferdinand, and Dorothea had all been in Enbarr last Byleth had checked. Their devotions kept them in place - Hubert's devotion to Edelgard, Ferdinand's devotion to the Empire (and now all of Fodlan), and Dorothea's newly discovered devotion to Ferdinand. He was the only person who could make her eyes light up during those last months of the war. Byleth hoped that was still the case.

Byleth cupped one of the roses absentmindedly, gasping and pulling back when a thorn sunk into their finger.

"Are you alright?" a polite voice asked from behind them.

Byleth spun, pulling out their sword.

"I apologize for frightening you, but I assure you this place is safe for you," the figure standing behind them said, face obscured by a hood. The voice was deep, a male voice that seemed familiar somehow. They were tall, most of their clothing obscured by a long cloak. Was this the "ghost" everyone had seen?

"Is that why nobody stays very long?" Byleth challenged, still poised defensively.

"I said safe for _you_ , not necessarily for them," the figure said with a hint of amusement in their tone.

"What does that mean?"

The figure shrugged, walking away.

"Wait!" Byleth shouted, putting their sword away. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Aren't you usually the one answering the questions, professor?" he asked, his shrouded face turning towards Byleth slightly.

Byleth swallowed thickly. "Nobody’s called me that for a very long time. Do you know me?"

"I thought I did, once," he admitted sadly. 

Byleth followed him through the gardens and towards the dorms. He kept his face turned slightly away, making sure Byleth couldn't see it. "Who are you?" Byleth asked again.

"It-it doesn't matter," he said quickly. "I shouldn't have bothered you, I apologize." There was a quick bow and the hooded figure rushed away in the direction of the training grounds. Byleth was about to follow when they heard a rustling in the other direction. Turning, they thought they saw someone disappearing around the corner to the upstairs dorms. Deciding they might have more luck getting answers from this new person, they opted for this path instead. Heading down the thoroughfare, Byleth paused, noticing something outside of one of the doors.

Byleth recognized the door quickly, it was Bernadetta's. Byleth had spent more time outside of this door than any other, probably even their own. There was a plate with a piece of cake on it and a pitcher plant sitting next to it. Byleth moved closer to investigate. The cake looked fresh...

Byleth thought they heard a noise from behind the door. Was someone actually in there? They lifted their hand and knocked.

"Go away!" came a shout from inside.

Byleth jumped back, catching them self before falling down the steps. That voice... It sounded just like Bernadetta! But that was impossible.

"B-Bernie?" they asked cautiously. There was no answer. Byleth took a deep breath to steel them self, and tried the doorknob. It turned reluctantly due to years of disuse.

Byleth stepped inside, looking around. Empty. Only dust and cobwebs.

Byleth stepped back out, shaking their head. They must be so exhausted they were imagining they heard Bernadetta's voice. Stepping over the cake, they noticed something glinting in the bush nearby. It was a metal piece from a broken sword belt... identical to the one they had returned to Felix so many years ago.

Byleth's head was spinning. In a daze, they headed towards the stairs to the upper level dorms. Was that humming coming from the greenhouse? Curious, they poked their head inside. The humming stopped immediately. The plants seemed oddly well kept, all things considered... Perhaps one of the mysterious people they had seen was caring for them. And that humming must have just been the wind…

Continuing on, the upstairs dorm hallway seemed longer than Byleth remembered it being. Perhaps because they hadn't ventured all the way down it in so long. So many of these rooms had sat empty during the war. Byleth was glad that the soldiers hadn't opted to stay in them. Even though many of them had been unoccupied for over 15 years now, Byleth still thought of them as being assigned to the original students.

Byleth thought they could smell cooked meat coming from Ingrid's room. How many times had they encountered Ingrid and Marianne standing here chatting about horses? The wondered what had happened to the shy girl and tried not to think of Ingrid, crushed underneath her Pegasus at Arianrhod.

Hilda… _“I don't understand why anyone would want to risk their life for someone else,”_ she had said once at the academy. But on the battlefield it was a different story entirely, especially when she had fallen protecting Claude. 

Byleth brushed their fingers against each of the doors they passed, Edelgard’s next, then Hubert, Ferdinand, Lorenz…

Lorenz’s death had been an accident. He had arrived just behind Acheron and they had thought him an enemy as well. Correspondence with the Alliance had been difficult due to Claude keeping the nobles arguing amongst each other. Edelgard’s axe had taken Lorenz down before he could pronounce his loyalties. Of course, that wasn’t what had been conveyed to his father.

Claude… Byleth wondered what he was up to now, where he had disappeared to. He hadn’t been expecting Edelgard to vote against his life but in true Claude fashion, he had managed a daring escape in the end.

Reaching Felix’s room almost at the end of the hallway, Byleth thought they could hear a strange squeaking noise coming from the last room. Skipping Dimitri's old room for now, Byleth opened the door, only for the squeaking to stop, much like the noise in the greenhouse had. Byleth looked around suspiciously, but like the rest of the rooms -and most of the rest of the monastery- there was only dust and cobwebs to be found.

Turning to leave, the brightly colored flowers in the vase on the windowsill caught their eye. Turning back, there was only a dusty vase, the birthday flowers Byleth had sent him so long ago decayed to almost nothing now.

Shaking their head again, Byleth opened the door to Dimitri's room with a sigh. Their fingers trailed along the dust covered desk, old parchment still stacked neatly. His room had been so sparsely decorated, so few personal effects, as if he thought he might disappear at any moment and did not wish to burden the staff with preparing the room for the next resident. Knowing him, that was likely true.

Byleth sat on the bed, feeling suddenly exhausted. Coming here had been a mistake. There were too many memories here, it was hard to separate them from reality. They curled into a ball on the bed, eyes closing almost immediately. They thought they smelled chamomile just before drifting off into oblivion.

Byleth dreamed of each of the students. They started off as pleasant dreams, teatimes and mealtimes, chats in the garden, smiles and laughter. They always started like this, but these felt even more vivid than usual. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the smiles and laughter morphed into screams and crying. In the end, Byleth stood in the middle of the monastery gardens, the dead bodies of each and every one of their former students surrounding them.

They awoke to find their cheeks damp, their eyes sore from the force of the tears. "I'm sorry," they whispered into the silent room.

The thick blanket that had sat neatly folded at the end of the bed was draped over them and they lifted it, confused. They must have grabbed it during their slumber; that was the only logical explanation. Byleth sat up, rubbing their face. Perhaps the rest would bring them some clarity. They stood to leave, but something caught their eye.

A black leather glove lay on the pillow.

Byleth turned away, squeezing their eyes shut. They needed to _leave_ this place. Rushing out of the dorms, they ignored every noise, every impossible familiar scent, every shadow out of the corner of their eye… Except one. The crumbling tops of the buildings opened up the view of the horizon, and with it, the Cathedral. They had to make one more stop. 

Byleth bypassed the Cathedral and headed for the Goddess Tower. It didn’t have the opulence of the Cathedral, instead there was a more natural, wild feel to it. Much like Sothis herself. If Byleth wanted to try to communicate with Sothis, it would be here, not in the Cathedral. 

Byleth looked out the large window. For a moment, they saw the monastery as it had once been. But with another blink, it was in its current ruined state again.

“Sothis,” Byleth whispered. “Are you there?” Were they even still connected? Byleth wasn’t sure exactly what had happened when Rhea had died. Their heart had started to beat again and their hair had changed back to its original teal, but what exactly did that _mean_?

“The goddess just watches us from above… that is all,” came the voice of the hooded figure again. 

Byleth didn’t startle this time. They turned slowly, peering at the figure near the stairs who quickly looked away, obscuring their face again. 

“No matter how hard someone begs to be saved, she would never so much as offer her hand,” he continued. “And even if she did, we lack the means to reach out and grasp it.” His head tilted slightly towards Byleth. “At least that’s how I feel about her.” 

Byleth stared at him, thinking of all of the students they never reached their hand out to. How many more could they have saved had they performed such a simple action? 

“Perhaps when I had her power I should have tried harder to reach out towards others. Instead of wasting it fighting a pointless war.” As much as Edelgard wished for the world to change, it was still a slow process.

“Do not be so hard on yourself, Professor. You and Edelgard only did what you thought was right. Anyone in power does the same. You believed your cause to be just. Who’s to say it wasn’t?”

“I can’t help but think that there could have been a better way. Maybe we could have reached a mutual understanding...found a path of peace.”

“I don’t think that I can ever fully understand Edelgard or her path, but she has always been strong-willed. She believed her path to be the way that lead to the fewest casualties in the end.”

Byleth turned to stare out the window again. “Well, you seem to have all the answers. So tell me, mysterious stranger, how do I live with myself knowing everything I’ve done?”

He chuckled. “I am probably the last person to answer that question for you.” He crossed his arms, one hand coming up to rest under his chin in a thoughtful gesture. “But I think if our positions were swapped, you might tell me to forgive myself.”

“Who are you?” Byleth demanded, turning back. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, taking a step back. 

Byleth stomped towards him, too mentally exhausted to play this game any longer. He shied away and Byleth reached out to rip the hood back.

The face that turned towards shyly them was familiar. Every student Byleth was forced to kill during the war weighed heavily on their soul, but none as much as Dimitri. 

Dimitri had been sweet and polite in his time at the monastery, always offering a kind hand or advice to Byleth. The words he'd offered after Jeralt was killed had given Byleth more comfort and reassurance than any others. 

The fight against Dimitri had been difficult. At the base level, he had been a King defending his land from an invading army, one that Byleth had helped lead. And when it was finally over, he'd lain on the damp earth, blood saturating his blonde hair. Those blue eyes that had once been so bright and kind now looked dully at the sky.

Blood dripped from his shorter hair now as he turned to look at her with those bright and hopeful blue eyes.

Dimitri was dead. Byleth _knew_ this. And ghosts _weren’t_ real. So then this _could not_ be Dimitri, this _had_ to be one of Those Who Slither in the Dark, somehow stealing his face in order to torture Byleth.

On instinct, Byleth ripped the dagger from their belt, stabbing towards him as if they could pierce the veil between this world and the next. Dimitri gave them a sad smile. Byleth took a confused step back when their dagger only swiped at the empty air, misjudging the step and losing their footing.

Byleth found themselves lying on the ground at the foot of the stairs, Dimitri standing over them.

"Professor," Dimitri said in that oh so polite voice of his. His hair was no longer dripping with blood. "I'm so very sorry that I frightened you." He held out his hand. "Won't you please join us?"

Byleth hesitated, and then reluctantly took his hand, letting the boy pull them up. 

"Wait," Byleth said. "Us?"

"Of course," Dimitri replied. 

Byleth turned slowly, seeing several of their former students gathering. 

"Professor!" Lorenz greeted. "I do hope you'll make time to have tea with me."

“And me as well,” Mercedes said with her sweet smile. “Oh! I’ll bake some sweets.” She turned towards Annette. “Annie? Will you help me?”

Annette nodded vigorously. “Of course, Mercie!”

“You _simply_ must find the time to go fishing with me!” Flayn said, tugging on Byleth’s sleeve.

“Please let me know when. I would love to paint that,” Ignatz said, smiling at both Flayn and Byleth.

“I wouldn’t mind doing some fishing as well,” Linhardt said with a yawn.

Byleth gaped at them, seeing all of the students they had been forced to kill (either directly or indirectly) in the war and then some. 

"Of course the Professor has time!" Ashe said cheerily.

“Indeed,” said Dedue. "All we have is time now."

Byleth took a step forward, stumbling over something on the ground. They looked down, only to realize it was their own body lying pale and lifeless, neck twisted at an impossible angle.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as being inspired by the concept of the upcoming fe3h gothic horror zine (https://twitter.com/GothicFE3H). I thought about applying but I can't seem to write anything short enough to be considered sample work and also portfolio, ugh. This was supposed to just be a short little thing that could maybe count as a sample if I applied but then it turned into 4K words so...  
> Also my partner kept on pointing out inconsistencies and such that I felt the need to explain away - like Lorenz's death. I thought his line at the end (most of that ending sequence after Dimitri's reveal was the first part I wrote of this) was perfect and fitting and then my partner pointed out he doesn't die in crimson flower (I'd played azure moon and silver snow and then recruited him in crimson flower because I was sick of having to kill him so this didn't really click for me 😅). Anyway, this kept growing and surprised me when the finished first draft hit almost 3500 words.  
> I have a few other things in the works but I'm also moving in a couple of weeks so I might not have time to meet my self imposed deadlines. Currently tentatively planned is a haunted house modern au fic I'm hoping to finish by Halloween and 3 OC x canon fics I'm hoping to have something ready for by the time OC x canon weekend (https://twitter.com/fe3hocxcanon) comes around next month.  
> Anyway, follow me on Twitter if you want, @melissamajoriax is my personal and @mdubzzzplays for fandom stuff tho I usually also do that on my personal because... well... it's who I am.


End file.
